TBK - Journals - Prancing

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Entry 8: Prancing
Post Entry 7
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The equi were finally returned to their stalls, and somehow, that made Esme quite happy. After all, these magnificent beasts loaned their precious cubicles to displaced families and never complained. They simply grazed out on the pasture contently, in spite of the sun’s unforgiving rays and the chill of the night. Now, they rested comfortably in their own rooms with their tails whipping sleepily from side to side.

In the weeks she had spent with them, the Dhole found comfort in the patient animals and their serenely wise stares. She was especially fond of the ginger gelding whose coat was like that of spun copper. In spite of his fiery appearance, he had been the gentlest of the Aragon’s herd. He had been wonderful with the refugees’ children as well, nuzzling them and allowing them to pull on his tail and even climb on his back. Later, Esme learned that his name was D’Angelo from one of his caretakers and she had begun talking to him ever since.

And he was every bit of the angel as his name suggested.

“Glad to be back to your bed, señor?” The burgundy-haired Canine giggled as the equu nibbled a handful of oats and wheat flakes. “I suppose you do.”

D’Angelo rumbled happily as he flicked his ears.

The gesture had the Dhole wagging her tail in response. She rubbed his large ear and proceeded to sweep the floor free of hay and grain. She supposed that this was no longer her concern, but after spending so much time in the stables, cleaning it had become second nature to her and somewhat of a welcomed chore. It just didn’t seem right to leave it as it was, even if the Aragons have hired hands that took care and looked after the equi.

The heels of her flat shoes pitter-pattered on the polished wooded flooring as she swept, and it didn’t take long for her to create a simple rhythm by tapping them in certain intervals. This inevitably caused her to dance while performing the mundane task of clearing hay because the urge was intrinsically powerful and motivating. It lifted her spirits up despite the desperation of her situation. There was nothing wrong with entertaining oneself, was there? D’Angelo seemed to agree too, for he would bob his large head at Esme’s every giggle.

The happy Dhole hugged the equu’s muzzle and rubbed its snout until the beast contently whinnied under her touch. She adored the cute sound, so she gently gave the ginger one more squeeze before pecking it’s nose.

“Well it seems like D’Angelo has, once again, allured a lovely lady,” a chuckling voice made Esme jump. She turned around and found Carlos Aragon by the stable door leading his gray mount inside.

The ginger equu neighed in a way that sounded in between a greeting and an indignant denial. The Dhole, however, immediately curtsied and took care not to look at the Malamute in the eye. It was almost like a fearful sort of pleasantry she had learned during her stay here in Sidonia. Carlos’ kin weren’t fond of people who didn’t observe and respect their status in society.

“Señor D’Angelo is quite a gentleman, si,” Esme smiled timidly after the heir of Sidonia looked at her curtsy disapprovingly. He had told her numerous times that she shouldn’t bother with that kind of formality with him.

“He is one of the most well-loved ones around here,” he patted Castilla fondly before guiding it to its coral next door. He then looked at the humble Dhole and forced a small curve on his lips. The unusual expression made Esme perk her ears in curiosity.

“Is something the matter, mi principe?” She asked carefully when his eyes just took on a faraway look. She seemed to have broken the Malamute’s reverie, for his ears perked suddenly and he blinked in haste before he could finally respond.

“Ah… no. It is nothing, señorita.” He closed the gate to his mount’s pen before petting the friendly D’Angelo, who still had his head peculiarly poking out of his enclosure. “He belonged to mi madre…” Carlos trailed off as he rubbed the ginger’s white nose. “It is reassuring to see him active again. He has seen better days.”

Indeed, D’Angelo was in his twilight years, but the friendliness and gentleness he had showed Esme and the refugees’ children almost made him seem like a young equu.

“O-oh!” Dhole almost chirped worriedly. “I didn’t mean to… um… the children were just magnetized to him. I hope Dona Aragon wouldn’t mind.” She lowered her ears. The last thing she wanted to happen was to make the noble house’s matriarch angry for taking her mount to be petted like a farm critter. “I’ll let the kids know that they shouldn’t play around with your equi, señor.”

“Do not worry about it,” Carlos chuckled in mild amusement though his words still held a hint of sadness. “My mother is… no longer with us. Even if she was, she would have been happy to lend D’Angelo to those children. They have been through a lot since that dreadful bombing of Hodous. I imagine a playful equu could lift their spirits, even just a little.”

Esme pressed her lips into a thin line, unable to find the words to say. She supposed that she should apologize again, for making him recall about his mother’s loss. However, she knew that doing so would only make things worse. Her own mother’s name echoed in her mind and it made her heart sink. She didn’t want that feeling to linger on other people.

So she just clasped her hands behind her back and smiled at him.

“He was perfect, I assure you.” Indeed, it had been the first time the Dhole had seen the refugee pups and kits so happy after their abrupt relocation. It was as if the fear they had a few weeks prior haven’t existed, and they returned to being children. “I was surprised that he lifted Sonny by his shirt and placed him on his back. I’ve never seen an equu do that before. I thought Sonny was in trouble but…” she couldn’t help but giggle fondly at the sight she had seen. “It was harmless fun. I wish the children didn’t feed him so many oats though. I don’t know if that could be a bad thing for such purebreds.”

D’Angelo nudged the Dhole’s shoulder, seeking attention that she was only too happy to give. Wagging her tail, Esme continued sharing the day with her companion. “Señor D’Angelo also licked Mona’s hand when she tried to chastise him after he stole an apple from her.”

“No one keeps him from his apples, yes. I should advise you and Señorita Mona not to carry them when he is nearby. He will search every nook and cranny for it. In fact,” it was his turn to wag his curled tail in simple mirth, “he has been known to chew through fabric to get a hidden apple.”

“Really?” The Dhole gasped in surprise. The ginger equu was that persistent?

The Malamute chuckled and nodded, “I… was the victim. I know of it firsthand.”

She stared at him in disbelief. In many ways, Carlos Aragon didn’t seem to be the type of person to make childish mishaps like that. After all, the Dog Nobles were the epitome of posh greatness that many middle-class Canines try to live up to. The Dogs of Canidae Bay, Palencia, Xijuana, Usui and the like all have strived to be like the Nobles, and many businessmen have adopted their styles and mannerisms over the years despite not having the pedigree. However, the thought of the heir of Sidonia making mistakes like common folk was entertaining and that somehow made Carlos a little easier to be around with.

“Are you returning home, señor?” She asked as she leaned the broom she had been using at the corner of the stables by the mop and bucket.

“Si, I should. I am expecting a couple of friends later tonight.”

“Oh, then,” the Dhole wagged her tail complacently, “don’t let me keep you. I still have the key Señor Lucas lent me when the refugees were still staying here. I can close the stables myself.”

Carlos contemplatively lowered his ears a bit. He then glanced at the spotless stable floors before returning his gaze at the burgundy-haired young lady. His expression was so docile, so unlike the Alpha’s demeanor the latter had usually seen him with.

“Are you not retiring yet, señorita?” He asked before clearing his throat.

“I will soon, señor.”

“Then allow me to escort you to your cabin—that is, unless you are waiting for an acquaintance.”

Esme blinked, bewildered and surprised at the Malamute’s small fumble with words. He was always eloquent and purposeful, so this tone of uncertainty was quite unlike him. Maybe he was merely trying to live up to the chivalrous conduct that was expected of him, or he was simply being nice. Yet, the realization that the young noble had indeed stammered made her chuckle.

“Are you sure? The walk isn’t that far, and I don’t want you to be late to meet up with your friends.” The Dhole made her way towards the door of the stables, where he had been waiting.

“Which is why I am certain I can spare a few more minutes. Please, let me have the honor.”

Esme timidly nodded.

She wasn’t sure whether it was the night sky’s stars or simply a play of the light, but Carlos’ blue eyes seemed to twinkle.

They weren’t even twenty feet away from the stable that she began regretting her decision, for the Malamute’s silence made for awkward company. She would steal a glance at him from time to time, but she only found him staring ahead, his thoughts somewhere far away. Briefly, she wondered what was in his mind. She was almost certain that he was thinking of his mother, as that was what she usually did whenever she was reminded of hers. Not that she had much to go by. Esperanza perished way before Esme could even have memories of her. The young Dhole was only able to know her mother through photographs and stories from people she was acquainted with.

It was only when he caught her looking at him that he realized that he was being a poor host. He apologized, of course, but that devolved back into stillness once more. It made Esme feel uncomfortable. Should she just let him go on his way and insist that she could return to her lodgings on her own? She didn’t know what to do. She certainly didn’t want to offend him, for the last thing she wanted was to be on the bad side of the House whose hospitality gave her and her company food and shelter during these trying times.

“Do you… always attend that Fiesta?”

His sudden question took her off guard. She had been pleasantly surprised that he still remembered her name even though they have only met once nearly two years ago. After all, he was a noble and, as Warren had once put it, no one knew how nobles thought. Esme mused that Carlos was unreadable just like her padrino had said, but it wasn’t as if she was better at deducing a person’s character as the next person.

“I try to…” the Dhole trailed off and stared at the pasture grass they were walking on.

“Were you there last year?”

Bewildered, the young woman looked up at her companion questioningly but found it hard to form words when her eyes met his beautiful cobalt blue. For some reason, however, he immediately looked away.

“Um… no. We haven’t been able to go back home to Palencia since we got a mining operation in Xenoc.” She clasped her hands behind her back, uneasy. “It was only the second time I’ve missed it actually.” Esme chuckled softly as she lowered her small reddish ears. “How about you? I know Palencia is a bit far away from here, but are you able to go every year?”

“Sadly, no…” he spoke casually, in a way that actually made him sound a little shy. “I visit Palencia a few times a year because I am responsible for speaking to the gobernador there in my father’s place.”

The Dhole supposed that it made sense. The Aragons were arguably the most powerful of the Dog Aristocrats and their economic might extended all the way to the westernmost city of Gijon. It was because of this that the cities of Xijuana, Palencia, and Gijon share cultural backgrounds similar to that of Sidonia, even though Carrera to the north and Matagi to the south were geographically closer.

“I attended the Fiesta last year…”

That made Esme perk her ears.

“Really? How was it?” She wagged her tail and hoped that her companion would tell her more about the last fiesta. The event was definitely one, if not the only, holiday she truly looked forward to in the year, so she was a bit depressed when she hadn’t been able to go.

However, the Malamute took a while to respond as if he was weighing words in his mind. Did all nobles do this? Must they always think of what they say?

“It was less crowded than the year prior, less lively.”

“Oh…” Esme trailed off. Without the miners, Palencia’s population must have noticeably shrunk, and she supposed that without husbands, sons, uncles, and fathers, many residents wouldn’t have felt like celebrating.

“They still kept the spirit of the fiesta alive though,” Carlos smiled softly at her, wagging his tail in a sweet attempt to cheer her up. “The women still danced, and the older folk still played their festive music. There was still food all around even if it was not as extravagant as before.”

The Dhole could almost see the lights, sounds and scent of her home city if she made herself believe hard enough, and it made her heart swell. Many a times, she worried how Palencia was doing, for it had had very close encounters with economic instability and bankruptcy. That was the reason why so many of them worked so far away from home, to make sure that their beloved Palencia continued to flourish. Because if Palencia was prosperous, so did her children, the residents.

“I wish I had been there,” Esme whispered to no one in particular. Then she vigorously shook her head, “I wish everyone had been there. My employees all deserve to spend time with their families.”

It could just be her imagination but she thought she heard Carlos mutter “I wish you had been too.”

The Malamute suddenly cleared his throat and asked instead, “you must have been busy to miss the chance, señorita. You manage your own company, si?”

The Dhole bobbed a nod, “Si. I’m not alone though. Mi Padrino, Warren Santiago, is a co-owner of the Pirines Mining Company. He also serves as my mentor when we’re on-site.” Chuckling, she wagged her tail good-naturedly, “I’m still learning after all.”

“Of course,” he acknowledged her with a nod of his own. “I am curious, however. A young lady like you running a mining operation?”

“I’ve studied geology since I was a little girl since mi papa is also a geologist. Geography naturally followed after that as I got older. A-Although I am not formally trained or mentored, I can proudly say that I helped Warren find new dig sites and keep the company afloat.” She skipped a couple of steps in front of him, “of course, there’s more to it than that but I’d rather not bore you with company details, señor.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, señorita, but I thought Southern Fenrisyr is poor in coal.”

“Yes,” she responded sadly, “It is true. There are more coal deposits up north in the Pajackchok Plains and to the west in Sagarmath Mountains. But… there is no way for a small company like ours to lobby for grants and permits to dig in those places. The Coyotes and the other Plainspeople can’t even accept a railroad on their sacred meadows, let alone an open coal mine; while Sagarmath remains indomitable and impossible to navigate effectively.” She then turned around towards him with a brave and determined expression on her face. “We’ll make do somehow. When the coals run out, we’ll dig for something else.”

“Is there anything I can do to help…?” He offered of all the sudden. He must have realized that the Dholes’ ticket to survival was a temporary one. It was true that on top of mining for a vanishing resource, Esme’s company wasn’t even paid enough to be able to invest in more sustainable ways to make a living. The Wolves further north mined their own fuel, while the Nobles in the South preferred to import theirs from Vertalis. Truth be told, the Pirines Mining Company’s most important patrons were the bay cities that required even more electricity as their population increased.

Webgate Fortress also benefitted from their work. In fact, Señor Barnes, their contractor in Xenoc, was Feline, but the Dhole was not about to tell Carlos that.

It was the only way for her and her people to make ends meet. And she was certain that after their exodus from Canidae Bay, they have lost their jobs already.

She looked at the Malamute uncertainly, “I’m not sure, mi principe. Pero… things will look up one day so let’s focus on the refugees for now.”

“Esmeralda…”

His gaze held so much genuine concern that she had to fight an urge to say thank you even though he hadn’t done anything. It was comforting, flattering even, to have a stranger care enough like this.

“I am… very honored that you even remember my name, Don Aragon.”  The words just came out of her mouth before she could even think against uttering it. So instead of making a fool out of herself in trying to take it back, she just took a deep breath and smiled at him.

He responded in turn before his alert ears relaxed a bit, “So far, you have made it quite difficult for me to forget your name.”

Giggling, the Dhole wagged her tail, “How? By telling you my worries? That’s hardly a good thing to remember a person by.”

He chuckled with mirth, “Hardly.”

“I do apologize though. My concerns shouldn’t clutter yours, so please just forget everything I’ve said. We, your people, need you for something more important.” Emboldened by the daunting task ahead of them, Esme raised her tail, took her liege’s hands in hers and squeezed firmly.

“We need your help in taking back what is ours, mi principe.”

The faces of the helpless and homeless flashed in front of her eyes. The starving, the injured, the fearful, all of them have left a mark in her heart. She wanted to help them, save them if at all possible. She knew the sorrow of being away from home to make a living, to forfeit the comfort of being with family for the sake of surviving. But she was simply a peasant girl. She was not a Rebel’s heir like Sakura Kurama, or a talented and powerful bounty hunter like Yutsu. All she had was her heart and she was painfully aware that it could only do so much.

So she must give her faith to those who can do something about the world.

Carlos had proven to be a compassionate leader with a kind heart who didn’t think twice in welcoming a rugged band of refugees. He had a good head on his shoulders, and he was poised to inherit vast powers that could influence the outcome of their crisis. His hands could mold the future more than hers could ever do, so she kissed them, hoping that her meager strength could bolster the power held in those kind hands.

“Please help us.”

The Malamute seemed taken aback by her confidence in him so she let his hands go, ashamed. Before she could apologize, however, those very same hands have cupped her cheeks and their owner was gazing at her with grateful tenderness. Esme could swear that her heart had clogged her throat then. As much as she wanted to back away, her body refused to move. Why was it so hard to breathe?

She clenched her eyes shut as Carlos’ lips descended upon her, her pulse pounding hard against her veins. Her thoughts raced. Fear and anticipation swirled so fast that they intermingled with other and made them impossible to tell apart.

Esme whimpered as warm lips rested against her forehead. However, before it even registered as a kiss in her mind, it was gone, leaving a chilled spot that made her shiver. Timidly, she opened one of her hazel-green eyes and found the Malamute was smiling down on her, amused and curiously fond.

He then said, “I promise that I will not sit idle until every single one of the people here are able to go home… including you, señorita.”

For a moment, those words made it seem like another savior had been born.

“S-Señor, I… I don’t know w-what to say. Everyone will be so overjoyed to know that you’ll help them! I—“

“Carlos-kun!!” A distant voice had Esme jumping from the Malamute’s hold as if she touched something that burned. Although from a quick glance, she noticed that even he was shocked and nervous of the person running towards them.

It was hard to see because of the dim light, but a fluffy-tailed young man was fast approaching, followed by a much taller figure with floppy ears. The Dhole could tell that the male was an Akita due to the dialect he had used to call the Malamute beside her. She took a bit longer to be certain of the other figure, but as soon as she saw the distinctive miniature liquor barrel in the young woman’s hand, Esme knew that she was a Saint Bernard.

“Hideki, Renee,” Carlos greeted the visitors. They must be his close friends for the Akita immediately threw an arm around his neck, a familiarity not typically seen from a noble and his vassal.

“So this is where you’ve been!” Hideki barked excitedly as he nearly choked the Malamute with his arm, “we’ve been waiting for you in the castle!”

“Indeed, Carlos,” Renee giggled lithely at the two guys’ antics. “Although, I can see why.”

Esme blinked when the Saint Bernard’s playful eyes twinkled when they examined her. As a lowly Dhole, she immediately curtsied and excused herself, “I’m deeply sorry if I’ve caused you any inconveniences, milady. Um… Señor Aragon, I-I should… go now. Thank you for your company. Buenas noches, señor y señorita.”

She bowed once more before turning towards the light of the refugees’ temporary cabins. For some reason, her feet moved with haste, taking her away from that bewildering experience with the Malamute. She didn’t know what just occurred between them, and she was comfortable enough not to dig further into it. Was it because of something she said or did? Esme shook her head and told herself that she would be better off if she stopped wondering.

All she needed to know was she and her people had Carlos’ help, and that was all that mattered.

“Wait, señorita!”

The Malamute’s bark had her pausing and looking back. Much to her amusement, she saw that Carlos had reversed his situation with his friend Hideki and was now the one holding the latter in a choke hold. Renee, with her enigmatic yet gentle smile, was waving her goodbye like an old friend.

“Si, señor?” She chirped at Carlos, wondering what he wanted.

“Baka Carlos, stop hurting my Adam’s apple!”

“Hush… I am not even holding you that tightly,” the Malamute chastised the exuberant Akita. He then returned his attention to the burgundy-haired young woman several yards away.

“I just want to say buenas noches tambien.”

Esme nodded, satisfied.

“Gracias!”

The Dhole hurried to the cabin that was erected for the specific use of Warren, but since she was basically part of his family, she stayed there with them. The building did not look particularly strong with it’s thin wooden frame. Then again, it was made in a hurry and Esme was just glad to have a roof over her head and some privacy. It had been difficult to rest with all the ruckus when she slept in the stables.

Inside the cabin were a couple of oil lamps which glowed dimly in the starry night sky. She supposed that supplying the refugees with electricity was not within the immediate means of Sidonia, especially here outside their city walls. She was certain that her miners felt at home enough, for during their operation, it was only dim lamps that allowed them to see in the stark darkness of a deep cavern.

Just outside the door, Esme spotted her sister figure, Mona, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed and fingers tapping.

“Dios mio, mi hermana, just what did you do in the stable, polish the floor? You shouldn’t have to do that.”

Smiling, the Dhole walked into the light, swishing her long fluffy tail in greeting, “No, I ran into Don Aragon and—“

“The old gruff or the prince in shining armor?”

Blinking in bewilderment, she could only reply, “I guess it’s the latter.”

“You’re having trysts with that guy already? Esme!” The young Desman threw her hands up in the air, clearly upset about something. “Young noblemen only have two intentions when it comes to beautiful chicas like us, to bed us and to bed us!”

“But that’s the same thing—“

“Which is exactly my point,” Mona sighed exasperatedly when she found that the Dhole clearly did not understand what she meant. “Mi perrita linda, I understand that Don Carlos is a looker—I would totally undress him in my mind had he looked more… manly—but… just be careful okay? And it’s not just because of him. In fact, he’s the least of our worries.”

Esme tilted her head questioningly, “Is there something the matter?”

“Not really… but things are about to get hectic. Come inside. Papi wants to talk to you and for goodness sake, you made the food wait!”

The Dhole immediately apologized because in their custom, making food wait and turn cold was definitely a bad thing. If the blessing was there, then a person must take it, otherwise it would turn into misfortune. However, she did not feel particularly hungry so she decided to speak to her padrino before eating her supper.

“Ah, mija, I was waiting for you,” Warren was sitting on a crude bench puffing away in his pipe. In front of him were documents strewn out on the table, whether they were company notes or noble demands, she could not tell. “Now that we have enough houses for the refugees, I asked the Aragons if our company will be free to leave for Palencia. We are no longer needed here and having the miners stay put will only needlessly burden Sidonia.”

“I-I see…” Though she should be happy that she could get her people away from the mess in Canidae Bay, Esme felt like her purpose here was still incomplete. There were people she still needed to hear from, after all. Yutsu might send word or Kura might turn up in the refugee list. Moreover, she had just made Carlos promise an oath to help the displaced peoples of Fenrisyr. It would not be right if she was not present to lend him a hand, no matter how little she could contribute.

Instinctively, the Dhole held onto the green bracelet on her wrist for comfort. There had been many times that Cissy’s gift had helped her when her mind was clouded with indecisiveness, so she hoped that her lucky charm of sorts could help make the right decision.

Was she prepared to simply turn her back to the people who she had grown to care for?

“Padrino…” she spoke softly but with resolution, “I would like to stay and help, even with just the refugees.”

Warren paused from shuffling papers and stared at her with his wise grey eyes.

“There is no money in this, mija.”

Esme shook her head, “it’s not about the money.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s because of that guy on the white horse, mi hermana.”

“No… of course not,” the Dhole raised her tail in mild indignation, “I just don’t think I can leave. It feels wrong somehow.”

“Mija, you already did more than you should have,” the graying Desman sighed raggedly. “You brought all these people from Xenoc and helped feed and clothe them.”

“But…” she interlaced her fingers and breathed deeply before looking at her second family with resolve.

“Even Sidonia can’t do everything. Not even all the nobles combined… they can only do so much.”

“So, what are you saying…?” Warren stood from his bench and tapped his cane on the floor authoritatively, “Are you telling us that you are going fight in this war?”

Though the Desman’s words stung her confidence, Esme did not let that affect her thoughts. She knew that he was merely worried and cared for her as his daughter, especially since her father, Rodrigo, had entrusted her in his care. She felt extremely grateful for that. She truly did.

“No,” the Dhole raised her tail to harden her emotions and turn them into pure will. “I’m not a warrior or a soldier, therefore it’s not my place to fight. However, I think Fenrisyr can’t afford having idle hands anymore. We’ve seen that in Beryn already, haven’t we? We’ve seen it in Hodous in the past and the present. Our nation can’t be divided and still hope to stand.”

“Esme,” Mona definitely looked horrified at what she had just said. “We can go home and you still want to stay?”

“I’m afraid of it myself but… si, I need to stay.”

“Good.”

The three occupants of the cabin whipped their gazes towards the door, where Heidi Lakshme stood with a parchment of paper rolled in her hand. She strode unyieldingly towards the cabin’s table and laid the blueprint on it, “I heard you have quite the engineering prowess, Esmeralda. If Warren is reluctant to lend us his head, then we can use yours.”

The Desman harrumphed and tapped his cane agitatedly again, “But I was made well aware that the company can no longer stay here, Heidi.”

“Don’t listen to everything the Aragons say, Warren,” the Maned Wolf used the mugs and bowls on the table as paperweights to hold down the map she carried with her. “They’ll say anything to make it look like they have everything under control. But just as the young lady here said, we can no longer afford to depend on the nobles by themselves. As we speak, Sidonia drills her troops, but to what end? Our current armies would simply be cannon fodder if we do not fight smartly.”

Esme studied the map that the short woman brought and was very impressed with the fortifications it was proposing. Outposts, mine fields, sentries, it contained every conceivable defensive strategies that she could think of.

“I don’t think large ramparts can be placed so close to the Hroovit,” she spoke with a small amount of confidence as she pointed out a mark on the map that was drawn over the twin bridges north of Sidonia that crossed the large river. “The banks are too steep and made of silt. It won’t hold unless you extend the foundations to share the bridges’, where it is rockier and more stable.”

Heidi studied her for a long moment, as if scrutinizing her reasoning with a sharp blade.

“T-there had been a number of instances in which I s-studied the river system. It’s essential to mining in Nazcha…” Her stuttering seemed to have deflected the dart the Maned Wolf had thrown her, for the older woman shifted her gaze to Warren.

The Desman simply puffed his pipe and shrugged, “If it is about rocks and their formations, she knows more than I.”

“I had planned to ask you to manage the refugee camp more closely so I can focus on building our defenses. However,” Heidi Lakshme straightened and turned back to the Dhole, “you prove to be a lot more useful. We will need your expertise in the weeks to come, Esmeralda. Can we count on you?”

The Dhole looked at Warren and Mona but quickly knew that it was her decision and hers alone.

“Si.”

For the first time since they have met, Heidi’s lips curved in approval.

And, somehow, that made Esmeralda feel proud of herself.